The Grove
by TMJones
Summary: Sometimes time doesn't reach a place, despite all rational arguments that it should. And when this happens, moments seem like years, and years suddenly don't matter. SetoYami, One shot.


A/N: This, my friends, is a little off the schedule, but I feel very bad for making you all wait for so long for the next installation of Doors Through Walls.

But the fact is, since I'm at college, everything fanfiction related is on hold right now. Sad, I know, and I am halfway done with chapter 21, but I'd thought I'd inform you guys about my current state at the moment, and warn you all that the frequency of updates will increase from what they have been, but they won't be as many as they have been in the past. I apologize for this, as I know that a lot of you are wondering what the hell is going on, in that fic of mine…personally, I only know half of it myself; I have to figure out the other half as I go along. Not that that's ever not been the case…

But in the meantime, here's something that might sound familiar to you all, or it might not; it is what Kaiba and Yami's relationship would have been like, if I had kept things the way I had them when I first started writing Doors Through Walls, last November. It was my second idea of how to make relations between them, the first having not been revealed yet, as it will give away parts of what is yet to come.

For those of you who haven't read Doors Through Walls don't need to worry, though; this is a one-shot that was too pretty of a scrap to throw away with other clippings on the cutting room floor, so to speak.

I call it "The Grove".

* * *

Yami reclined on the picnic bench, his elbows on the table to support his lazy slouch. A perfect, languid breeze graced across his face, bringing with it a whisper of the heat that existed beyond the shade where he now hid. It was a brilliant sunlight that made one blind when they walked indoors, and made the willow leaves glow before Yami, casting a warm, green hue all about the natural capsule he found himself in.

It was a wonderful place to put a picnic table; the willow's branches created a living curtain, but not one that intruded upon the space of those occupying it. When the breeze blew, once could see glimpses of the park beyond. Nearer to the willow was the kids' playground, with its colorful slides and other wonders. Then, beyond that, lush green fields for baseball and soccer stretched right into the line of trees surrounding the park. And when that wonderful wind blew through the willow's glowing branches, Yami could catch glimpses of kids playing on the swings, Dad teaching his daughter to catch a baseball, a couple walking their newborn baby through the walkways weaving through all the main attractions…

Yami sighed contentedly, enjoying the freshness of the air, the chatter just quiet enough that it was comfortable, and not annoying. The willow was on the top of an incline, that distanced it from everything else at the park. An ideal place for thoughts, or the solving of those that didn't make sense.

Thoughts like those being carried by familiar shoes up the incline to the willow. Yami could see them near the bottom of the incline, and watched their stride until they disappeared from view. He frowned, knowing whose shoes they were, but wondering why on earth they would be here, of all places…

Why at a park?

Why at this park?

Why under the willow?

Yami heard the rustling of branches parting, and he turned around just enough so that he could see a tall, thin figure step through them. For a moment, he didn't realize Yami was there. Then he sensed his eyes, and looked over in Yami's direction.

"Hey." Kaiba said, nodding his greeting.

Yami did not return the nod. Instead, he looked towards the playground and fields again, asking frostily,

"Come to make more queer jokes?"

For Kaiba had, for the past few days, been making such remarks in school. He knew Yami didn't like people knowing about his orientation. And even though they hadn't seen each other for years, the fact that Yami hadn't liked people knowing before should have been an indicator that he might still hold those same wishes. Yami hardly thought it was appropriate, either, that he was doing it so soon after he had transferred over to Domino from being home schooled. It took him a few hours, at most, to come back to what he had always done before—make fun of each other.

"No," Kaiba replied. Yami heard him rummaging in his pocket for something, and turned around to see Kaiba lighting a cigarette.

"Still doing that?"

"Some habits you never break," Kaiba replied darkly. Yami felt the corners of his mouth turn upwards, despite his stony expression. He turned back around, and started to observe a couple of passersby on the sidewalk, beyond the park.

"So you've come to talk."

"What else would an old friend do?" Kaiba said.

"Friend? I beg to differ."

"No you don't," Kaiba replied. Yami didn't respond, and soon caught from the air that familiar smell of cigarette smoke. Images of another lush, sunny clearing—much like this one, actually, except surrounded by a thick wall of trees—came to mind.

"Thinking of something?" Kaiba asked. Yami simply nodded.

"The grove?"

"The only place you smoked," Yami replied.

"One a day," Kaiba agreed. He exhaled, and Yami noticed the smoke got considerably thicker; Kaiba was behind him. Or, at least, closer to him...

"Do you still do that?" Yami asked, still facing the street.

"What, go to the grove?"

"No; smoke one cigarette a day."

"Yeah," Kaiba replied, "it's healthier that way. And cheaper."

"You could always quit, you know."

"Nah…."

Yami felt himself smiling, slightly. "You haven't changed," he said.

"Neither have you," Kaiba replied.

"Oh, really?" Yami asked, tilting his head back. He had guessed right; Kaiba was now sitting on the table, leaning on the hand that wasn't holding the cigarette. He looked down at Yami.

"You're still temperamental as hell. Sometimes I wonder how you haven't died of a heart attack yet, from all that yelling."

Yami tilted his head forward again. "I don't usually yell that often, you know," he said. "I've been relatively quiet the past few years."

"So it's just when I'm around that you start having seizures?"

"…Basically."

"How flattering."

Yami paused. He decided to let Kaiba come back to that on his own.

"Well, between your lungs and my blood pressure, I figure we'll die at the same age anyway."

"Heh," Kaiba said, "sounds fair enough."

There was a silence, as Kaiba finished his cigarette. He put it out on the table next to Yami, who flicked it into the grass. Yami didn't have any particular reason for doing this, other than to move in some way that didn't focus on what Kaiba was here for. He didn't mind talking to him in private, as it was always the complete opposite between them in a school setting, but Kaiba always had a reason behind his actions. He wouldn't just walk up to someone and start talking to them, even if he had known them for years. There was something he wanted to straighten out, or to make clear.

"When _was_ the last time were at the grove?" Yami wondered aloud. He took the cue from Kaiba's smoking; maybe there was something about that place he wanted to bring up. And if that were the case, Yami had a pretty good idea of what it was…

"When dear old Dad had found out about us," Kaiba replied immediately, "and I had to break the news." He then slid down onto the bench next to Yami, and assumed the same position Yami was in.

"Thank god he wasn't my real father. Otherwise I would have cared."

"Birth or foster…it wouldn't have changed anything," Yami said, looking at Kaiba. Kaiba stared back.

Yami had hit the target.

"No," Kaiba finally said, his tone suddenly more distant. "It wouldn't have." Then he blinked, and laughed that soft, short laugh again—not unlike Yugi's. Except that it sounded right, coming from Kaiba. Or maybe Yami was just used to it.

"I still can't believe your reaction…."

"That was only because it was unexpected!" Yami said very loudly and defensively, crossing his arms.

"And because you're a pouf," Kaiba replied, that ever-annoying smirk returning.

"Hey—it takes two of them to make an affair, _Seto_."

"But it doesn't take two to blubber about it," Kaiba said, ignoring the first name. "Besides," he continued, "I wouldn't call it an affair. Makes it sound like we were cheating on our girlfriends, or something."

"And what _would_ you have called it?"

"…A crush."

"Tuh!" Yami scoffed, "And how many 'crushes' make out with each other on a regular basis for almost five months?"

"All right, all right…friends with benefits."

"Oh, please! Besides, I think I had at least some right to get a little wet around the eyes, considering what had happened just that week! Or do you even remember—"

"Oh, I remember," Kaiba interrupted, quieting Yami's gradually raising voice with his sudden earnest tone. "_That's_ something you never forget."

"Good."

Kaiba rolled his eyes. "I would have to take some deadly wound to the head before I forgot that, Yami."

"Yeah, well…don't try it anytime soon," Yami retorted. Yes, it was a lame retort, but Yami felt like lashing out; this wasn't the subject he had been hoping to alight on. Kaiba just smiled, and shook his head.

"You still didn't have to cry—"

"All right, I didn't have to!" Yami interrupted irritably. "But I did, and it was three years ago. Besides," Yami said, deciding to be straightforward, as he was more than ready for a subject change, "I'm positive that's not why you came here."

Kaiba nodded. "No, it isn't." He looked at Yami. "It's…related, though."

"…How so?"

Kaiba didn't answer right away. And when he did, it was with a different kind of voice; one devoid of any kind of sarcasm or mockery.

"That time at the grove was the last time we talked."

"…and…?"

"Well…if something's interrupted…don't you usually start where you left off?"

Yami almost started. That had been completely unexpected, as far as Yami was concerned. Kaiba must have noticed Yami gawking at him, because he turned and gave Yami that hard, penetrating stare that was so characteristic—a blank face, conveying nothing to the world but what could be told through two very blue eyes.

And Yami was caught by them. Only for a short while, but he still paused for a brief moment in time. The sudden warming in his face brought him back to his senses. He blinked, and stared determinedly out into the world beyond the branches. _Damn_! Three years later and it didn't make one _inkling_ of a difference…

"Am I stepping in on anything?" Kaiba's voice asked, penetrating through Yami's thoughts.

"No," he answered blankly.

There was a pause, in which Yami tried to gather his scattered and startled mind back together, and Kaiba… sat there. He just sat there, confident and calm, as if the world was playing into his hands. And, as much as the thought infuriated Yami, it probably was, too. At least right now.

And the warmth in his face wasn't going away. Obscenities ran through Yami's head with increasing speed.

"Do I get an answer, then?" Kaiba prompted.

"What?" Yami asked dumbly, and blinked. Kaiba smirked and leaned over so that he was very close to Yami. Yami didn't move a muscle. Instead, he said the first thing that was screaming in his mind,

"You know… this is…not something you just… pick up again."

"Oh, really?" Kaiba murmured into Yami's ear.

The tickling of Kaiba's breath against his ear and skin plunged Yami's senses into a haze he knew he couldn't blame on the sun filtering through the tree's branches, or the smoke. He didn't even try to speak—his mind was numb.

"I don't see why not…"

He leaned a little further forward, and captured Yami's lips with his own.

The kiss was long. Memories of everything that had happened before cracked, weakened, and finally obliterated that dam so forcibly built in Yami's mind, three years ago. And as one usually is when thrown against a wall of water, Yami was stunned, weakened. Kaiba finally pulled away, and tightened his hold around Yami's waist—Yami didn't try to think of when Kaiba's arms got there. Instead he inhaled, trying to regain the air that had been knocked out of him.

"You've gotten better," he breathed.

"I would like to think so," he smirked.

They stayed like that, staring at each other, for a very long time.

Three years ago, they were at a different school. Three years ago, they were sneaking around, containing their desires in one little clearing surrounded by trees, donning the roles of bitter enemies the instant they stepped outside that space. That space, so much like this space, Yami saw…a space that was eventually spied upon and invaded, if only in the figurative sense.

It still chased Kaiba into three years of home school. It still left Yami out in the open, feeling naked for all to see in his emotional state, shivering from the attention he got from everyone that knew him; after all, up until that point…no one knew.

No one except Kaiba.

How he had figured out before Yami himself, Yami had never figured out. He just considered it one of Kaiba's talents, at left it at that.

Yami realized, then, that this was the first time Kaiba had ever kissed him outside of that secret space. After three years of not so much as a whisper, Yami suddenly found himself once again in those arms that he had tried to forget, staring into those eyes he convinced himself never to see again.

And even though it brought back the pain of being cut off so harshly, and the anger of not knowing what had happened, or why Kaiba hadn't tried to contact him the past three years, sending Yami into even more doubt, depression, and confusion about himself…he still brought up his hand to push some hair back behind Kaiba's ear, leaving his hand to caress the side of Kaiba's face.

"What?"

It was a whisper, light yet heavy with the burden it gave to Yami's mind—for he didn't know. So many different things he could answer…and all of them would be right…

"Just…" he whispered back, leaning into that which could surround him, he knew,

"Just kiss me."

And Kaiba complied.

* * *

A/N: All right, it might be a little strange, but considering it was going to be put into a multi-chapter fic when I wrote it…yeah.

I think it stands well on its own, though.

Until next time.

—Tremp.


End file.
